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True yet mimetic warfare, whereby man
Does his best with his utmost, and so ends
The victor most of all in fair defeat.

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Who thinks, would he have no one think beside?
Who knows, who does, must other learning die
And action perish? Why, our giant proves
No better than a dwarf, with rivalry

Prostrate around him. 'Let the whole race stand
And try conclusions fairly!' he cries first.


shall such

Show me the great man would engage his peer
Rather by grinning Cheat, thy gold is brass!'
Than granting 'Perfect piece of purest ore!
Still, is it less good mintage, this of mine?'
Well, and these right and sound results of soul
I' the strong and healthy one wise man,
Be vainly sought for, scornfully renounced
I' the multitude that make the entity
The people? to what purpose, if no less,
In power and purity of soul, below
The reach of the unit than, in multiplied
Might of the body, vulgarized the more,
Above, in thick and threefold brutishness?
See! you accept such one wise man, myself:
Wiser or less wise, still I operate
From my own stock of wisdom, nor exact
Of other sort of natures you admire,
That whoso rhymes a sonnet pays a tax,
Who paints a landscape dips brush at his cost,
Who scores a septet true for strings and wind
Mulcted must be else how should I impose
Properly, attitudinize aright,

Did such conflicting claims as these divert
Hohenstiel-Schwangau from observing me?
Therefore, what I find facile, you be sure,
With effort or without it, you shall dare
You, I aspire to make my better self
And truly the Great Nation. No more war
For war's sake, then! and, seeing, wickedness
Springs out of folly, no more foolish dread
O' the neighbor waxing too inordinate
A rival, through his gain of wealth and ease!
What? keep me patient, Powers!


the people here,

Earth presses to her heart, nor owns a pride
Above her pride i' the race all flame and air
And aspiration to the boundless Great,
The incommensurably Beautiful

Whose very falterings groundward come of flight
Urged by a pinion all too passionate

For heaven and what it holds of gloom and glow:
Bravest of thinkers, bravest of the brave
Doers, exalt in Science, rapturous

In Art, the more than all- magnetic race
To fascinate their fellows, mould mankind



these, what?-these Will have to abdicate their primacy Should such a nation sell them steel untaxed, And such another take itself, on hire For the natural sennight, somebody for lord Unpatronized by me whose back was turned? Or such another yet would fain build bridge, Lay rail, drive tunnel, busy its poor self With its appropriate fancy: so there's Hohenstiel-Schwangau up in arms at once! Genius has somewhat of the infantine: But of the childish, not a touch nor taint Except through self-will, which, being foolishness, Is certain, soon or late, of punishment. Which Providence avert! and that it may Avert what both of us would so deserve, No foolish dread o' the neighbor, I enjoin! By consequence, no wicked war with him,

While I rule!

Does that mean- no war at all When just the wickedness I here proscribe Comes, haply, from the neighbor? Does my speech Precede the praying that you beat the sword To ploughshare, and the spear to pruning-hook, And sit down henceforth under your own vine And fig-tree through the sleepy summer month, Letting what hurly-burly please explode On the other side the mountain-frontier? No, Beloved! I foresee and I announce Necessity of warfare in one case,

For one cause: one way, I bid broach the blood

O' the world. For truth and right, and only right
And truth, right, truth, on the absolute scale of God,

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No pettiness of man's admeasurement,

In such case only, and for such one cause,
Fight your hearts out, whatever fate betide
Hands energetic to the uttermost !

Lie not! Endure no lie which needs your heart

And hand to push it out of mankind's path -
No lie that lets the natural forces work
Too long ere lay it plain and pulverized
Seeing man's life lasts only twenty years!
And such a lie, before both man and God,
Being, at this time present, Austria's rule
O'er Italy, - for Austria's sake the first,
Italy's next, and our sake last of all,
Come with me and deliver Italy!

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Smite hip and thigh until the oppressor leave
Free from the Adriatic to the Alps

The oppressed one! We were they who laid her low
In the old bad day when Villany braved Truth

And Right, and laughed 'Henceforward, God deposed, The Devil is to rule forevermore

I' the world!'. whereof to stop the consequence,
And for atonement of false glory there
Gaped at and gabbled over by the world,
We purpose to get God enthroned again
For what the world will gird at as sheer shame
I' the cost of blood and treasure.
Not even, say, some patch of province, splice
O' the frontier? some snug honorarium-fee
Shut into glove and pocketed apace?'
(Questions Sagacity) in deference

To the natural susceptibility

All for nought

Of folks at home, unwitting of that pitch
You soar to, and misdoubting if Truth, Right

And the other such augustnesses repay

Expenditure in coin o' the realm,

but prompt

To recognize the cession of Savoy
And Nice as marketable value!' No,
Sagacity, go preach to Metternich,
And, sermon ended, stay where he resides!
Hohenstiel-Schwangau, you and I must march
The other road! war for the hate of war,
Not love, this once!" So Italy was free.

What else noteworthy and commendable
I' the man's career? that he was resolute
No trepidation, much less treachery

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On his part, should imperil from its poise

The ball o' the world, heaved up at such expense
Of pains so far, and ready to rebound,

Let but a finger maladroitly fall,

Under pretence of making fast and sure

The inch gained by late volubility,

And run itself back to the ancient rest

At foot o' the mountain. Thus he ruled, gave proof
The world had gained a point, progressive so,
By choice, this time, as will and power concurred,
O' the fittest man to rule; not chance of birth,
Or such-like dice-throw. Oft Sagacity
Was at his ear: "Confirm this clear advance,
Support this wise procedure! You, elect
O' the people, mean to justify their choice
And out-king all the kingly imbeciles;
But that's just half the enterprise : remains
You find them a successor like yourself,
In head and heart and eye and hand and aim,
Or all done's undone; and whom hope to mould
So like you as the pupil Nature sends,

The son and heir's completeness which you lack?
Lack it no longer! Wed the pick o' the world,
Where'er you think you find it. Should she be
A queen, tell Hohenstielers-Schwangauese,
So do the old enthroned decrepitudes
Acknowledge, in the rotten hearts of them,
Their knell is knolled, they hasten to make peace
With the new order, recognize in me

Your right to constitute what king you will,
Cringe therefore crown in hand and bride on arm,
To both of us we triumph, I suppose!'

Is it the other sort of rank?-bright eye,

Soft smile, and so forth, all her queenly boast?
Undaunted the exordium-'I, the man

O' the people, with the people mate myself:

So stand, so fall. Kings, keep your crowns and brides! Our progeny (if Providence agree)

Shall live to tread the baubles underfoot

And bid the scarecrows consort with their kin.

For son, as for his sire, be the free wife

In the free state!" "

That is, Sagacity

Would prop up one more lie, the most of all
Pernicious fancy that the son and heir
Receives the genius from the sire, himself
Transmits as surely, - ask experience else!
Which answers, never was so plain a truth
As that God drops his seed of heavenly flame
Just where He wills on earth: sometimes where man

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Seems to tempt such the accumulated store
Of faculties one spark to fire the heap;
Sometimes where, fire-ball-like, it falls upon
The naked unpreparedness of rock,

Burns, beaconing the nations through their night.
Faculties, fuel for the flame? All helps

Come, ought to come, or come not, crossed by chance,
From culture and transmission. What's your want
I' the son and heir? Sympathy, aptitude,
Teachableness, the fuel for the flame?

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You'll have them for your pains: but the flame's self,
The novel thought of God shall light the world?
No, poet, though your offspring rhyme and chime
I' the cradle, - painter, no, for all your pet
Draws his first eye, beats Salvatore's boy,
And thrice no, statesman, should your progeny
Tie bib and tucker with no tape but red,
And make a foolscap-kite of protocols !
Critic and copyist and bureaucrat

To heart's content! The seed o' the apple-tree
Brings forth another tree which bears a crab:
'Tis the great gardener grafts the excellence
On wildings where he will.

"How plain I view,

Across those misty years 'twixt me and Rome" (Such the man's answer to Sagacity)

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"The little wayside temple, halfway down
To a mild river that makes oxen white
Miraculously, un-mouse-colors hide,

Or so the Roman country people dream!
I view that sweet small shrub-imbedded shrine
On the declivity, was sacred once

To a transmuting Genius of the land,

Could touch and turn its dunnest natures bright,

Since Italy means the Land of the Ox, we know. Well, how was it the due succession fell

From priest to priest who ministered i' the cool
Calm fane o' the Clitumnian god? The sire
Brought forth a son and sacerdotal sprout,
Endowed instinctively with good and grace
To suit the gliding gentleness below
Did he? Tradition tells another tale.
Each priest obtained his predecessor's staff,
Robe, fillet and insignia, blamelessly,
By springing out of ambush, soon or late,

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